


UnXpected

by veritygrey (raventree)



Category: Marvel (Movies), Numb3rs, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raventree/pseuds/veritygrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie has unexpected visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Numb3rs characters are the property of Nick Falacci and Cheryl Heuton, X-Men charaters belong to Marvel.

 

Don stopped next to the classroom door when he heard Charlie's raised voice.

"Colonel Stryker, I don't work on projects like yours. Not now, not ever."

"You've worked classified projects before, Dr Eppes. The only difference is that this is military, instead of NSA. You have the expertise and the security needed and we can make it more than worth your time. I really don't see a problem here."

"The problem, Colonel Stryker, is that I use math to find killers, not children. The problem is, I try to teach people, I don't force my ideas on them. Find someone else to help build your machine Colonel. And if you try anything to make me help you? Just remember that NSA clearance. Now please leave, I'd like to clear the air in here before my next class."  
Don watched, shocked as the aging colonel left his brother's classroom. He'd known Charlie could get riled up about things, but he'd never seen his brother that angry before. Don wondered what this Colonel… Stryker, had wanted Charlie's help with? Some kind of machine Charlie had called it. Don listened closely as he heard Charlie speaking again.

"Charles? It's me."

…

"I'm fine. I just had William Stryker in here with a project for me. He asked me how hard it would me to reverse engineer a computer capable of increasing mental abilities. He implied he'd have some parts soon."

…

"I'm not sure. I think he's been talking to Eric."

…

"I know, but he may not have been willing. Stryker doesn't always obey the law, as you well know."

…

"Yeah. Just make sure the kids know how to get out. And where to go. I know it's pretty far, but you know where to find me."

…

"Yeah. I'll see you next time I'm over your way. Bye."  
After a moment, Don heard a chair scrape across the floor, and the quiet scratching of pen on paper. He thought about what he'd just heard. There had been a lot of rumours about mutants while he was growing up, finally confirmed in the last few years. And although the FBI had no official policy, Don had already transferred two agents for 'unacceptable behaviour'. He wished he could find it surprising that someone wanted to build a machine to track people. Charlie, at least, wouldn't be helping make it. As he walked away, leaving his brother to his thoughts, Don wondered if he could convince their father to put a few beds in the basement. If, one day a bunch of kids did turn up, they'd have some where safer to sleep.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbusters and cooking lessons.

 

 

 

Don shut the door slowly, making as little noise as possible. If he woke everyone up now, he'd never hear the end of it. He put the milk in the fridge, before moving into the living room. The kid was still up, a small shape on the sofa, watching TV.

"Anything good on?"

"Not really." The kid replied, eyes on the screen. Don placed a box and a bag next to the kid.

"Pizza and DVD's. Don't wake anyone up, get rid of the pizza box before morning."

The kid looked away from the TV, lifting the pizza lid and searching through the movies.

"Thanks."

Don shrugged.

"Just don't let Charlie watch Ghostbusters. He gets annoyed by the ghost traps."

 

_Later..._

Charlie smiled when he looked in to the kitchen. His father was busy, teaching the older kids how to cook. Tonight's menu was meatloaf and Charlie hoped it would taste better than last nights spaghetti. The salt and sugar were now very clearly labelled. Kitty, turning towards the cupboard, waved at him. He waved back. Their father had been dubious, when Charles's students turned up, but Alan Eppes watched the news and he wasn't stupid. Charlie knew his dad had certain questions, he also knew they would remain unasked. For the time being, at least. In the meantime, they cleaned up after themselves, weren't overly noisy and knew more about cars than he had at that age. And if they were currently the closest thing to grandchildren his father woul'd be getting for a while, well, that was just a perk.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

He didn't ask about it. They were his sons, he didn't need to. When a troupe of middle and high school kids had turned up, looking for Charlie, he didn't ask why. He just let them in. When Donnie, the responsible, FBI agent, older son said, 'let them stay', Alan Eppes didn't question it. He just made the beds, filled the fridge and taught them how feed themselves. When a pizza box found its way into the garbage and Ghostbusters on to the TV, he didn't complain. When, on the second day, the children fell to the ground, screaming in pain, he didn't question why. He didn't ask why Charlie grabbed a pen and started writing equations. Or why the pain seemed to ease. Alan didn't question why his own migraine wasn't as severe, or even if it was a migraine. And he didn't ask why it stopped. He helped the children tidy the house and hugged the sad looking man who came to the door. He didn't ask how they'd known to be ready.

Charlie helped his father fold the recently used sheets. They were silent, each considering their own thoughts.  
"It's the numbers. When I focus on them, when I don't think about anything else, its like static, you know? Like white noise. Makes it harder for people to think, outside their own heads. They can't get a clear picture." Alan looked at him for a moment, then started folding sheets again.  
"Kitty wanted that recipe, for your mother's soup? Maybe you could send it to her for me?"  
"Sure."

 


End file.
